


Research, Sex, Hypnosis, Love

by NickelModelTales



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Graduate School, Hypnotism, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Imbalance, Research, Romance, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 21:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19364689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: Anita and Tomas, graduate sex researchers, begin a research project that requires them to have sex constantly.  When Tomas falls in love with his partner, perhaps the imbalance can only be corrected when a hypnotist is invited into the collaboration.





	1. Anita’s Project

“ _Ay bandito!_ Of course male ejaculation is **_psychological!_** ” Anita exclaimed.

All other conversation in Brad and Laurie’s living room instantly died.  Anita had this effect of people.  With a naturally loud voice, a rich accent, and a complete disregard for taboo subjects, she regularly caught people’s attention at unexpected moments.

This was after dinner at Brad and Laurie’s.  Once a month, we grad students gathered at their apartment because it was spacious enough for all of us, their kitchen was excellent, and their neighbors didn’t care if we smoked pot.  Now, after eating our fill, we students were cast about the expansive living room, sipping cheap wine in red plastic cups.  Felicia had made the mistake of talking to Anita about anatomy.  So **_of course_** Anita found a way to upstage everyone else’s conversation.

“But the cavernous nerve terminals in the penis-” Felicia protested.

“ _Sí, Sí, Sí,_ ” Anita interrupted.  “More nerves per muscle density than anywhere else in the male body.  But _niña_ , didn’t Carter and Dawsey show those nerves are inert unless properly engaged?”

“Carter and Dawsey?” poor Felicia echoed.

“1993,” said Anita.  “Journal of American Sexual-Physiological Studies.  Urm, they did that work at Stanford, I think?”

Of course Anita knew the precise journal article.  I swear, she was better-read than our professors.

For the millionth time, I stole an admiring glance at my classmate.  Anita was Puerto Rican, petite even by Puerto Rican standards.  Oh, she was beautiful.  **_So beautiful_**.  I was amazed by her wide, glittering brown eyes, which were soft and yet so penetrating.  She had the tiniest of noses, but full, red lips, perfect, pearl-like teeth, and gentle yet high cheekbones.  Her skin was flawless, and I swear it almost glowed in the light.  Thick, black curls always tumbled down her head in a carefree yet sexy way.

What’s more, Anita was **_hot_**.  She had a tight little waist from daily Pilates, but round, sweeping curves everywhere else.  Shapely legs, expressive hips, round breasts, well-shaped shoulders.  Mmmm.  Like all grad students, Anita usually wore tattered jeans, old tee shirts, faded sweatshirts, cheap canvas shoes.  But on her, these shapeless clothes seemed vibrant and alluring… like they might slip off her at any moment.  She looked luscious from any angle.

I caught myself staring into Anita’s deep cleavage and wanted to slap myself.  _Get a hold of yourself, man,_ I thought.

Anita took a swig from her cup, then grabbed a nearby box of tissues.  “Here,” she said haughtily, her accent stronger with the effects of the wine.  “I will show you.  _Mira!_ ”

She glanced about, completely unconcerned that all twenty-three Psychology grad students were now staring at her.  Her sexy eyes came to rest on me.

“ _’Ay_ Tomas,” Anita said.  “Com’ere a sec, will you?”

I swallowed, handed my cup to my best friend Gregg, and obediently came to her side.

“ _Hola, broki,_ ” Anita purred, casting a spell over me with her sultry glance.  “You do not mind if Fel ‘n me borrow you to settle a bet, eh?”

I helplessly shook my head.

“ _Bueno_ ,” smiled Anita.  “Now don’t be embarrassed, _cariño_.  You’re among friends.”

Her delicate little fingers reached for my belt buckle, popping it off.  Then she unzipped my fly.

“Jesus, Anita!” blurted Laurie.

“ _Ay bendito_ , we are all adults here,” Anita said soothingly.  Before I could object, she pulled down my jeans and boxers, exposing my cock right there for all the room to see.

You’d think I’d be humiliated.  Yeah, I was quite embarrassed at first, but Anita knew exactly how to handle the situation.

“Oh, Tomas has a **_beautiful_** cock, _hermoso bicho_ ,” she complimented, appreciatively wrapping her fingers around my Johnson.  “Nice size, gorgeous skin, very, **_very_** attractive.  _Muy hermoso._   You should be proud,” she told me in all sincerely.

At these glowing words, I became erect almost instantly.  And of course, I was blushing like crazy.  I had no idea my body had that much blood.

Anita hopped out of her easy chair, quickly yanking off her low-cut sweatshirt and spreading it over the seat.  “Sit here, _Papi_ ,” Anita ordered me.  I did as she commanded, allowing her to lower my pants to just above my knees.

Now I sat in the chair, Felicia to my left, Anita leaning over the chair arm to my right, all my classmates gathered around, staring.  Oh, and my raging hard-on poking skyward for everyone to see.  I suddenly felt so foolish.

“Now here is my point,” Anita said boldly, her right hand descending on my erect cock.  “The Urethra nerves are here,“ – her fingers brushed my fat tip – “and here is the Corpora cavernosa” – and then the underneath of my shaft.  “ _Viteh?_   We all agree on that, right?  Now watch what happens when I stimulate those areas.”

Like a baker making dough, Anita went to work on my penis.  Her left hand stroked my tip while the two fingers from her right hand ran up and down the underside of my shaft.  She worked in silence, intent on that she was doing.

So I sat there, unable to budge at all.  My cock was lighting up, delighted at all that female attention.  I felt my heartrate increase and I involuntarily gripped the chair.  Ohhh, did that feel good.

On the other hand…  Anita was working on my dick, but otherwise ignoring me.  It was as if she was molding clay and I just happened to be sitting nearby, nothing more.

I glanced about, wondering what I classmates were thinking.  They were all watching silently.  And taking lots of mental notes, no doubt.  After all, half the people in this room were hoping to get PhD’s in SexPsych.

There has always been this immature stereotype that we grad students in Sexual-Psychological Studies must spent all of our time humping one another.  In reality, we were scientists-in-training, working to solve problems like chronic erectile dysfunction, female infertility, sexual displacement, things like that.  And of course, we were all interested in what **_biologically_** makes a good orgasm.

So while Anita’s little show with my penis was unexpected and, yes, outrageous, it wasn’t a precursor to some perverted group sex or something like that.

Still, I can’t say I was happy that all of my fellow students were now studying my cock as if it were a specimen in lab.  I found myself making eye contact with the women in the group.  Man, there would be no casually asking them out after this.

Anita worked on for a minute or so, intent on what she was doing.

“See?” she finally said.  “I am applying direct stimulation to the _fascla_ , right?  Tomas here is erect, but not cumming.  So there is something missing.  _Comprende_?”

“Yeah,” Felicia allowed, “but you’re stimulating Tomas with a lot of spectators watching.  The social pressure aspect is a factor here.”

“Is it, then?” replied Anita, arching one eyebrow.

Before anyone could react, Anita then swung to lean close to me.  Her gorgeous face brushed past mine as her lips moved close to my ear.  I felt the warmth of her body.  Her hands never once let up on massaging my dick.

“ _Oh baby, did you know you make me so hot,_ bebé tan caliente?” Anita breathed into my ear, softly so only that I could hear.  “ _Your_ **MASIVO** _cock makes me so_ bellaca _, so horny, did you know that baby?  Mmmm,_ ” she whimpered.  Her Puerto Rican accent was heavier than usual, rolling those R’s.  “ _Oh God, I want you to fuck my tits with this huge, throbbing cock, baby, can you do that for me?  Can you?  Oh, I wish we could_ chingar _, baby.  Slide your wonderful dick between my soft tits, they are waiting for you, Oh God, baby, you make me soooo wet, did you know-_ “

I gasped as I felt the muscles inside my penis buck.  As hard as I tried to hold back, my penis roared to life and happily squirted semen like a fountain.  I didn’t want to ejaculate, but literally couldn’t stop it from happening.

“ _Gufiao!_ ” Anita crowed in triumph as she felt my load explode in her palm.  With her other hand, she snatched tissues, quickly applying them to my geyser.

My eyes went wide with humiliation as I realized what I’d just done… in front of all my peers, no less!  Goddamn!

“That’s okay, baby,” Anita smiled at me.  “Don’t worry about it.  Let it all out.  Here…”

Using her left hand to keep the tissues in place, Anita used her right hand to fully stoke my shaft, up and down, up and down.  I tensed my back and mumbled a little.

“Its okay, baby,” Anita assured me.  “Let it all out.   _Mamey…!_  Go for it.”

So under her stimulation, I let myself go.  The orgasm was a long one, maybe thirty seconds of actual cumming?  I’m not sure.  I just let her stroke while I rode out her sexual gift.

Finally, I was out of joy juice and breathing heavily.  I collapsed back into the chair.

“See?” Anita asked proudly, and she wiped her gooey hand with more tissues.  “I could have _bregar_ Tomas’ cavernous nerves all day long.  It was only when I applied the psychological stimulation that he ejaculated.  Male ejaculation is **_psychological._** ”

*****

It wasn’t easy to go into the Psych-Sexual lab after that.  I found that whenever I’d bump into anyone who was at that party, I’d immediately blush.  I couldn’t so much talk to people as I would mumble in their general direction.  I felt like my dick was sticking out of the front of my pants, for all to see.

But as I mentioned, my classmates and I are interested in sex from a **_clinical_** aspect.  Sure, we have our lusts and affairs like all other human beings, but no-one at that party looked down on me for Anita’s little demonstration.  Within a week, the embarrassment faded.

But I found it hard to look at or think about Anita in the same way again.  Since the day I met her in grad student orientation, I had always crushed on her.  And yes, I fantasized about her late at night, in the shower, while washing dishes, while stuck in traffic… all the time.  So once her hands had made sweet love to my member… well, it spurred my interest, let’s just say.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to work with Anita.  I was a more empirical researcher; that meant I was good at taking large batches of numbers and crunching them to find the one golden statistic.  She was on the experimental design side of the lab.  That meant she thought up the wacky psych experiments we put our undergrad volunteers through.

*****

As the academic semester got underway, I buried myself in my classes and research and more-or-less forgot about my public ejaculation at Brad and Laurie’s.  Until Anita sought me out.

“’ _Ay broki!_ ” I heard her Puerto Rican accent call out to me while I crossed through the busy Student Center.

Before I knew it, Anita appeared, taking my arm with a glowing smile.  “ _Que pasa, Papi?_ ” she said airily, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.  “Let us get coffee, _sí?_.”

I was supposed to be going to a Neuro-Psychological talk, but once again, I found myself under Anita’s spell.  Within minutes, we were sitting under an oak tree, blowing on our just-purchased cappuccinos, and watching the undergrads shuffle off to class.  The sun was warm, and I couldn’t help but sneak sideways glances at Anita’s bare arms and legs.  The tops of her breasts were visible in that low-cut top.

So hot…!

“Listen,” Anita said, briskly getting right to the point, “I’ve been reading your papers.  They’re good.   _Muy solido._  You have a knack at presenting The Numbers.”

By _The Numbers_ , she meant survey data.

“Thanks,” I said modestly.

“I have been working on something, and I need… how do you say?  A _compañero_ ,” gestured Anita.  “A full-time partner.  Someone who I can collaborate with, _sí_ , who can make up for my weaknesses.  It would be a big, big commitment.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious, but torn.  I had a full research docket as it was.

“ _Aquí,_ ” said Anita, gently setting her coffee down.  She rummaged about in her backpack, eventually finding and handing me two dog-eared notebooks.  Every page was completely filled with her tiny, neat handwriting.

I immediately recognized what this was.  “This is the outline for a book,” I said, surprised.  “An **_expansive_** book.”

Anita nodded.  “ _Sí._ ”

I flipped about, stumbling across a makeshift table-of-contents.  “Jeez,” I mumbled, scanning the chapter titles.  “This… this isn’t strictly within the field, is it?”

“Ah, no,” admitted my sexy classmate.  “This would not be academic publication.  I am shooting for New York Times bestseller’s list.”

I hesitated.  My academic advisor wouldn’t be happy if he knew I was writing a pop book on the side.

“Here is my theory,” Anita leaned forward, looking straight into my eyes.  “Sex, it is about power.  When two people have sex, there is **_always_** a power imbalance, no?  Sometimes it is little, sometimes it is _masivo_.  But it is always there.”

“Sure,” I agreed.

“I think,” said Anita, “that the imbalance affects sexual performance.  I am just not sure how yet.  But I want to write a book to figure that part out.  Then explain to people how to fix the power imbalances in their own sex lives.”

“…okay,” I said.

“I want you to collaborate with me.  I will need you to _interpretar los datos_ , to crunch the quantitative data we will collect.”

“I see,” I said, still flipping through the notebooks.  Quantitative data on peoples’ sex lives?  “And where are we getting that data?” I asked dryly.

Anita shrugged.  “I can ask my girlfriends to share some basic data about snogging their boyfriends,” she replied.  “But I think you and I will have to make most of the data ourselves.”

I nearly dropped the notebook.  “Say again?” I stammered.

Anita laughed quietly, then playfully slapped me in the arm.  “You heard me, _hombre_.  We’ll have to have most of the sex ourselves.  You ‘n me.”

She peered at me.  “You okay with that?  We are not _los amantes_ , not boyfriend and girlfriend, you understand.  We would just be having sex for the research.  I will design the experiments.  We will both collect the measurements; you would compile them later.”

At this point, I seriously thought I must be dreaming.

“We’d be having sex to do this?” I had to ask, out loud.

“ _Sí, sí,_ ” Anita said tartly.  “It would just be _amor fisico_ , a physical thing, _comprehende?_.  I don’t want to cuddle after.  No _janguiar_.  No sharing an after cigarette and talking about where we want to go together on Spring Break, eh?  We would **_only_** be just research partners in this experiment.”

She sighed.  “I thought about doing this with a boyfriend, but I also need someone who understands underlying psychological and psychochemical theories.  Someone who is in the department, _sí?_   And someone who compliments my research weaknesses.”

“Besides,” added my classmate, “I have already seen your cock.  I know you can perform.”

I was stunned.  This was like the beginning of a bad porno, the premise of every warped campus joke concerning the SexPsych department.  _Let’s bone each other all day long!  For science!_   I wanted to pinch myself.

“So…” Anita studied me, all business, “…you interested?”

*****

We went back to her apartment, just off-campus.  Anita claimed she didn’t have any money, but she’d somehow scraped enough to rent a descent studio apartment across from the park.  We walked up the six floors, huffing and puffing by the time we got to the top.

I don’t know what I expected _chez_ _Anita_ to look like.  Whenever I had fantasized about her, she always appeared in a 1930’s art deco style bedroom, with pink walls, a gauze-draped four poster bed, and soft track lighting.  Mmmm ** _mmm_** …

The reality was both disappointing and understandable at the same time.  The studio apartment itself was run-down, with faded, peeling wallpaper, fake hardwood floors, and a radiator that must have been older than my parents.  You easily could hear the street traffic from the two modest windows facing the park.

But Anita had kept the apartment immaculately clean and tidy.  There was a small desk and chair, some plastic milk crates that served as a bookcase, and a queen-sized mattress on the floor.  I could also see a tiny kitchenette and bathroom beyond.  There were a number of bulletin boards and Post-Its up on the walls, all bristling with notes.  Neat stacks of computer printouts and academic journals dominated the far corner.

“ _Asi que,_ ” Anita said nonchalantly.  She tossed her backpack to the floor.  “I was thinking for our first time, we should just **_do it_** , to get to know one another’s bodies.  Sound good?”

“Uh…” I said, completely taken aback.  “Sure.”

“ _Buena,_ ” responded Anita.  Without another word, she unzipped the fly on her jean shorts, then pushed both shorts and panties to the floor.  Standing up, she kicked off her sneakers while stripping out of her flower-print tank top.

“ _Venga_ , then,” she coaxed, while unsnapping her bra.  “You gonna get naked too?”

I tried not to stare as those gorgeous breasts bounced free.  Anita moved to her mattress, shedding her socks before lying down on her back.  She bent her knees and parted her legs, absently stroking herself while she waited for me.  Of course, she was completely shaved.  Both her legs… and… you know…!

In the meantime, I was frantically tearing off my own clothes.  Maybe I was worried that if I didn’t hurry, the universe would realize I was getting far too lucky, and Anita would change her mind.  While Anita had been calm and methodical when she disrobed, I was stripping as if my clothes were stuffed with fire ants.

When I was finally naked, I knelt on the mattress, uncertain what to do.  Should I kiss her?  I was dying to run my hands all over that sculpted body.

“Com’ere,” Anita instructed, once again taking charge.  She positioned me to lie on top of her, but moving her legs together.  This forced me to straddle her, my legs folded up alongside her hips, my already-dribbling cock standing at attention over her belly.

My partner studied my face quizzically.  “You ready, _hombre?_ ” she asked.  “Go for it.”

I leaned in, kissing her.  Gently.  Oh, her lips were soft.  I remember thinking they were like cushions and had a faint sweet taste.

Oh, she was a **_great_** kisser…!  You have no idea.

I shifted weight to my left hand so my right hand was free to roam her breasts and side.  I was delighted to feel her nipples completely erect as I cupped her.  I was getting really, really excited now.

“… _mmm_ …” Anita moaned, softly.  It was the first indication that she was enjoying our little extracurricular activity.

It was all the permission I needed.  With an animal-like lust, I suddenly attacked her body with my hands, lips, and tongue.  I probed her neck, delighted when my face pressed into those thick, black curls that seemed to be all around me now.  My hands gleefully explored, trying to memorize every contour of her wonderful figure.  Several times I had to force myself to slow down, for fear of becoming too aroused and firing off prematurely.

Anita placed her unblocked hands on my torso, but they did not wander.  She kissed me and allowed me to grope and kiss her body; but otherwise, she was passive.

I didn’t care.  I was getting laid!  With my dream girl!  I would have kept going if she’d fallen asleep!

But after what felt like mere minutes, Anita grunted.  “You are ready to fuck me?” she whispered.

This was possibly the year’s dumbest question.  But I wasn’t about to criticize.

“ _Aquí,_ ” Anita said, wriggling out from underneath me.  There was a plastic bag on the floor beside the mattress; she reached inside, pulling out a condom.  “Suit up,” she commanded, somehow tearing open the little package with one hand.

I raised up my body, fumbling with the little rubber circle.

“ _Oye!_ ” snapped my partner.  “Do not touch the outside to your tip!  Roll it on right!”

Oh, yeah.  I hurried to obey.

When she was satisfied, Anita lay back, spreading her legs wide into a giant letter “V.”  I swear I heard angels singing as I mounted her.

I was about to start coming in, when-

“Wait,” I gasped.  “Can I touch you inside first?”

“Oh,” replied Anita, surprised.  “Uh, sure.”

I rolled up on one hip, while drawing two fingers up her butt crack.  Eventually, they found her pussy, still slightly bristly from a recent shave.  Moving slowly, I pushed them in.

Anita was a little moist, but not fully wet.  Huh.  _That is probably why she bought triple lubricated,_ I thought.

I started stroking, leaning forward to suck on one of Anita’s breasts as I did so.  She absently rustled my hair, but otherwise didn’t respond.

I was growing a little worried at this point.  Many men would just start fucking away, I knew, but I wanted Anita to cum.  I wanted her to taste that orgasm with me, to feel a little of the chemical happiness that I would know.  I wanted to give, not just receive.

I kissed her breast more, my groping tongue eventually finding her nipple.

“Ohhhhhh…” Anita exclaimed, sucking in breath.

Ah, that was it.  I could feel her pussy getting really wet.  I stroked and licked, applying all my skill, willing this girl to lose a little control and have an orgasm.  Up until then, she didn’t seem to care how our sex ended.

But now… now my efforts were having some effect.  Anita began to push her head back into the pillow, moaning softly.  “Yeah,” I heard her gasp, “ _sí_ , like that.  Ohhhh… yeah…”

There wasn’t much more I could do, but I could keep stroking and stimulating her nipple.  So I hung in there.

Suddenly Anita cried out, her hips buckling under my hand.  Her unpinned hand gripped my hair, then slid down my face and neck.  One of her legs kicked.

I smiled to myself, continuing to finger her.

“Okay,” Anita gasped, snatching my wrist.  “Okay, _buena_.  That’s… good…”

Grinning, I re-mounted her, pressing my cock’s tip against her vagina.  Her waiting, fully-wet vagina.

Anita’s eyes were still screwed tightly shut, her mouth slightly open.  She reached up and placed her hands on the outsides of my shoulders.

I started fucking.  I should have entered her slowly and then built up speed, but I couldn’t help myself.  I was so excited, I just blasted on in and couldn’t stop.

I also couldn’t close my eyes.  No, I was so beyond-myself to be fucking my grad student dream girl, I wanted to watch it all.  Thankfully Anita kept her eyes shut.  I gleefully watched as her petite little sexy body bounced up and down on the mattress while I plowed her.  Her breasts, I remember, quivered and shimmied as if they were jelly.  Her curly hair flopped in all directions.  And her expression…

Oh, you know that face a woman makes when you are entering her?  You see it sometimes in porno movies, but there’s nothing like watching it in real life.  Anita’s eyes shut even tighter and her mouth opened wordlessly as my shaft plunged into her again and again.

I came quickly.  I was so overstimulated at that point, I knew I couldn’t maintain my erection for very long.  As my cock went off, I gave my hips an extra thrust, determined to feel the start of that orgasm as deep as possible within Anita.

I kept thrusting.

Finally, Anita’s expression resumed its neutral expression.  I wanted to stay within her, to stay within her forever.  But I was deflating.  I sadly pulled out, making sure to take the slimy condom with me.

Then I flopped down on the mattress.  I was breathing as if I’d just swum the English Channel.

Only then did I close my eyes.  I instinctively reached out for Anita, wanting to pull her next to me, to feel her naked skin against my body.  I wanted to nestle into that black hair and smell her faint perfume in both nostrils.

But Anita immediately rolled away.  She sat up, snatching a small hand towel that was folded next to the mattress.  “You need?” she asked me, as she wiped her crotch.

I looked up at her, a little dazed.  My mind was blown from the fantastic sex.  Her?  She looked like nothing unusual had happened at all.

“ _Aquí estás,_ ” Anita told me, plopping the towel on my stomach when she was done.

She inspected her nails.  “That was a pretty good introduction,” she remarked casually.  ”You now know my body, I have seen what you can do.  I will spend tonight designing our experiments and working on the measurements we want to capture.”

She looked at me.  “Sound good, _Papi_?”

I was still reeling.  “Uh… sure…” I managed.

*****


	2. Speedbumps and Roadblocks

After having sex with Anita, I couldn’t think for the rest of the day.  My advisor had noticed that I never made that Neuro-Psychological talk, and sent me a nasty email about my absence.  I also got a parking ticket from the Kampus Kops.  And my best friend Glenn broke my rice cooker after borrowing it for far too long.

But I barely noticed any of these things.  All that was in my dazed head was Anita, Anita, Anita.  Anita naked… Anita moaning… and Anita bouncing beneath me as I thrust into her, again and again.

*****

Anita wanted to launch our “research” right away.  “ _How often can you perform?_ ” she pointedly asked me that night over the phone.

“Uh…” I blustered, “as often as you want?  I mean… I’m pretty much… you know…”

“ _How about twice a day?_ ” she asked impatiently.  “ _Once in the morning, again in the late evening?  Can you keep that up six days a week?_ ”

As badly as I wanted to say yes, I knew I didn’t have that kind of stamina.  Nor could I sneak away from the lab that much.  We settled on once a day, seven days a week.

*****

I knew I might have bitten off more than I could chew when I returned to Anita’s apartment for our next sex session.  “We need to collect proper measurements,” she told me as we were taking off our clothes.  “ ** _Everything_** has to be documented, _sí?_ ”

Our first sexual encounter had been freeform.  Every roll in the hay after that was heavily structured.  For example, we only ever used six positions (missionary, doggie, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, scissors, against-the-wall) and **_never_** deviated.  I could only touch her erogenous zones in a specific order, and for a pre-agreed amount of time.  (Ex:  _Left nipple with tongue, 30 seconds.  Right nipple, with thumb and forefinger, 60 seconds.  Slight pressure on sphincter, with thumb, 120 seconds._ )  She could verbally issue revision orders, but only rarely.

Anita insisted we clock ourselves, setting a stopwatch at the beginning of our activities, noting at what time I entered her, what time I climaxed, what time she climaxed (which didn’t always happen), and the approximate durations of our orgasms.  I had to measure the amount of semen in my condom tip, which I thought was a little silly.  And after sex, we both had to fill in an after-form, rating things like our sexual arousal and enjoyment on a scale of zero to ten.

Then, I’d take the forms home, quantify them, and enter them into a little database I set up on the cloud.  And **_then_** I’d have to switch gears and work on my other schoolwork.

To Anita, our activities were pure research.  To me… at first… it was getting some with the hottest ass on campus.

But time and again, we would fuck each other, only for me to lie on the mattress in a dopey sex coma.  Anita had no such aftereffects.  The moment we were done, she would roll onto her belly, fill out her after-form, and then hurry into the shower.

*****

The first month was just straight sex.

“ _Agradable,_ this looks pretty good,” Anita happily told me, clicking through our little database on her laptop.  “We’ve got a good amount of baseline data.  **_Now_** we start playing with my power theories.”

“Oh?” I said warily.  I was already naked and on the mattress.

“ _Sí,_ ” replied Anita, pulling off her tee shirt.  “Remember my theory:  Sex is a power balance.  I want to play with different levels of power over you, and see how they impact your arousal and performance.”

I must have recoiled, for she added soothingly, “Hey, relax, _Papi_.  I’m not chaining you up in sex dungeon or anything like that.  You can pick the activities.”

Anita handed me a notebook, then stripped out of her panties.  Fully nude, she flopped onto the mattress next to me.

I read the list:  _Bondage / Light Bondage / Permission Issues / Restricted Orgasm / Social Stigma / Physical Restriction / Blindfolded Play / Submission Issues / Humiliation / Silent Communication_   …and many more.  A lot of these I wouldn’t do with a real girlfriend, let alone with my emotionally unattached sex research partner.

“Uh…  Permission Issues,” I selected.

“ _Buena_ ,” said Anita.  If she was disappointed, she hid it completely.

We got into the sex.  With Permission Issues, one partner has to be given permission to climax.  Usually, that’s the woman, but not always.  But because we had agreed that Anita was the dominant, it meant I couldn’t willingly let myself cum until she gave me verbal permission.  Easier said than done.

We used missionary, as Anita had to be able to see me.  We kissed and fondled, then I warmed up her vagina with my fingers.  Right on schedule.

“Mmmm…  _Brutal_ ,” she murmured warmly.  “Okay, I’m ready.  Come inside.”

I condom’ed, then entered.  Within a few joyful seconds, I was hammering at full speed.  It was hot.

As I fucked her with complete abandon, Anita grabbed my arms.  With stern eyes, she barked, “Don’t you dare cum!  **_You fucking hear me???_** ”  Then she switched into harsh-sounding Spanish.

I grunted, caught a little off-guard, but allowed her to hold my gaze.  Oh, I wanted to cum!  My cock was about to burst!  Holding in that desire to cum was painful.

Anita held my gaze, squeezing my head even harder.  As I fucked her, I realized; **_now_** she was getting really horny.  Really, really, **_really_** fucking aroused.  Normally when I boned her, she patiently waited for me to have my fill.  Not now.  Her brow and breasts were glittering with sweat and her lungs were heaving with desire.

I scrunched my eyes tight, desperate to cum, and desperate to hold that orgasm in until I got her permission.  It was like… actually, I can’t describe it.  I’ll never be able to describe it.

“Ohhhhh…  ohhhh…” Anita groaned, her fingers pressing into my skull.  “Ohhhhh, _ay bendito!_   Oh my fucking _Dios!_   Fuck, now!  Cum **_now!!!  NOW!!!_** ”

I was already gone.  With a gasp and a skip of my heart, I let the orgasm explode.  As the pleasure roared through my speeding cock and then across my entire body, I momentarily blanked out, unaware of where I was or what was happening.

I fucked on, slowing but enjoying this King of Orgasms.  Beneath me, Anita was grunting and gasping, clawing my hair and letting her legs shiver with delight.  She was cumming too.

I rode her at full gallop, sucking in joyful air as my cock was in party heaven.  Even after I faded, I kept going.

“Ohhhhhhh **_fuck!  FUCK!!!_** ” my partner bellowed, probably alarming the pedestrians outside.  “Okay, that’s enough!  Enough!   _Es suficiente!_ ”

I pulled out, savagely, then collapsed on top of her.

We lay there, breathing like exhausted marathoners.

Anita took a few seconds before letting out a, “Phew!!!  **_That_** was great!  Eh?”

I didn’t answer.  I couldn’t move.

“ _Venga,_ ” my partner scolded, slapping my butt a little.  “We have to fill out the forms, _sí?_   **_Now._** ”

Anita pushed me off, then rolled onto her belly as usual to fill out her after-form.  “Do it while its fresh in your mind, _Papi_ ,” she scolded me as she wrote.

I was having trouble focusing my eyes.  Although I wanted to do was lie in place and try to coral my jumbled thoughts, I obeyed her and reached for my clipboard.

*****

I wasn’t a fan, but Anita and I did many more sessions with Permission Issues sex.  There’s a lot of psych theory behind it, but the basic idea behind Permissions is that the sex partner who waits for permission to climax is tortured by wanting the permission, and thus enjoys the orgasm so much more when permission was finally granted.  Tension/release.  Classic sex theory.

Being on the receiving end of the Permission-Giving, I can tell you that, **_yes_** , having to wait for the OK to cum does make your eventual orgasm so much more powerful.  But it also leaves you feeling used and miserable, especially after the sex is over.

Anita was always the permission-giver.  “It has to be that way,” she explained, almost apologetically.  “I know more about the Permission Sex theory than you do.  And I am the one designing the experiments.”

“Hmmmgh,” I said, not happy.

“Besides,” Anita grinned, “I am the woman.  I can _gufear_ all day long at sex, if I want.  You couldn’t fuck me that long, not even if we had Viagra hooked up to your arm in IV.”

Okay, she had a point there.  But while I still loved knocking boots with her, I was growing tired of being the bitch all the time.  It was a torturous bliss to fuck her but not be allowed to spout off until I got her green light.  I started resenting Anita for it.

It also bothered me that Anita was clearly getting off when she lorded that power over me.  I don’t think she intended to be such a dominant.  No, I think we both stumbled across her own little fetish, and although she was struggling to remain the objective scientist in our work, she couldn’t help but explore this darker side of her nature.

*****

I was facing a different problem.  When you sleep with someone once a day, and every time the sex is out-of-control amazing, that begins to affect you.  I didn’t realize it at first, but after the first month or so, I began to resent our research.

After Anita and I shagged like bunnies, I longed to pull her sweaty body against mine, wrap my arms and legs about her, and kiss her softly as both of our minds drifted.  I began to fantasize not about doing her in different positions, but simply lying face-to-face, our noses touching, our secrets whispered to one another across the pillow.  I wanted to know Anita the woman, not Anita the sex scientist.

It made matters worse that she clearly only wanted me for the research.  Every time we finished having sex, every **_fucking_** single time, she’d immediately roll away, fill in her after-form, then run to the shower.  I’d be kicked out of her apartment fifteen minutes later, always with instructions on how to incorporate our latest data, **_never_** with a good-bye kiss or a flirty joke.

As a sex research collaborator, Anita was top-notch.  As a lover, she was positively antiseptic.

*****

I didn’t realize how much trouble I was in until the three-month-anniversary of our collaboration.  As a half-joke, I showed up at Anita’s apartment with a dozen roses.

“ _Qué es esto?_ ” she frowned as I handed them over.

“Three months,” I explained.  “We’ve been researching for three months.  I figured I’d get you-“

“Oh,” Anita said dismissively.  “Got it.”  She put the roses aside, then went back to writing in her journal.

Miffed, I scooped the flowers off the floor and went into her kitchenette to find a vase.

While I was trimming the stems, Anita got naked.  “Can you hurry up, _Papi?_ ” she said, annoyed.  “I have to be somewhere in an hour.”

“Fine,” I snapped, stuffing the roses into her watering can.  I strode to the mattress, peeling off my clothes.  “What, do you have a hot date or something?”

“Maybe,” Anita smiled to herself.  “John Wagner.  He’s at Berkley, in town for the week.  Oh, he’s a _gato_.  Have you met him?”

 _She likes him,_ I realized in dismay.  To my complete surprise, I felt… betrayed.

“Com’on,” Anita snapped, coming into the present.  “We are in reverse cowgirl today.”

*****

Soon, Anita was bobbing up and down on my rigid cock, clutching my knees and bellowing, “Not yet…  Mmmm, not yet…  _Oh yeah_ …”

I watched her hair flop about on her back and her ass rise and fall.  To my surprise, I was angry.  Angry that Anita would fuck me without so much once asking me about my life and then run off to date John Fucking Wagner.  What the hell was I, her toy?

Fine.  Whatever.  She could lay everyone on campus for all I cared.  I wanted to finish our stupid research and then go on to a new project, one where I kept my pants on.

Despite my simmering feelings, the orgasm was welling up within me.

“Not yet…!” panted Anita, riding me harder.

I suddenly decided I didn’t care about the experiment today.  Taking immature pleasure, I allowed myself to cum, grunting and lifting my hips as I climaxed.

“No… not yet, **_not fucking yet!_** ” Anita snapped.

“Uhhgh…!” I sighed.  “Sorry.  Just happened.”

“Oh, **_puñeta,_** ” seethed Anita.  She’d been close; now her orgasm was gone.

She threw a nasty look at me.  I merely shrugged.

“Sometimes this happens,” I told her.

Anita scowled, hopping off my dick.  “We’ll have to do this again, _mañana_ ,” she said curtly.

“Fine,” I replied.

I pulled on my clothes and left immediately, not bothering to say good-bye on the way out.

*****

Man, I was depressed that night.  As I stumbled back toward my own apartment, I kept thinking about Anita and John Wagner, off on their date.  Why was this bothering me so much?  John might have to buy her dinner and sit through a bad movie; I had already gotten into her pants.

But I knew things weren’t so simple.  I was fighting the urge to get a drink.  Hell, I wanted to get extremely drunk.

My dad was an alcoholic.  If the bastard hadn’t reached for a bottle whenever he got depressed, maybe the asshole would still be around for my mom and me.  As much as I wanted to drink my depression away, I knew how stupid that was.

I found my cell phone and made a call.  “You there?” I asked when the other person picked up.  “I need to talk.”

*****

You remember Glenn?  I mentioned him earlier.  Glenn was my best friend in those days, and he and I still keep in touch.  When I started this grad program, Glen had taken pity on me and helped me through the tougher classes.  He was a moocher, always borrowing my stuff and rarely returning it.  And a little too sports-crazy.  But despite his crudeness, Glenn was a good friend.

I collapsed onto Glenn’s worn sofa, even more depressed than before.  So Glenn poured me a shot of Jack Daniels, let me compose my thoughts, and then listened as I told him about my project with Anita.

“Jesus Christ, Tomas,” whistled Glenn when I finished.  “I always knew Anita was cold, but…  **_Damn!_** ”

“Its just sex, Glenn,” I mumbled, looking into my empty shot glass.  “Lots of sex, but just sex.  I don’t get why I’m-“

“Why?” Glenn cut me off.  “ ** _Why?_**   I’ll fucking tell you why.  Mother Nature didn’t make the orgasm to be a nice pick-me-up.  No, the evolutionary purpose of the orgasm is to make two people feel emotionally connected after they copulate.  And bond together so they can share child-rearing responsibilities.  The orgasm is designed to make you want to get married and move to the suburbs.  Its Mother Nature’s love potion.  And you are having an orgasm **_every day_** with Anita; of course you’re fucking in love with her!”

“In love?” I balked.  “I’m not-“

“Oh, but you so are,” Glenn interrupted again.  “If you weren’t, you couldn’t care less that Anita is off with Wagner.”

I remained silent.

“Another problem,” said Glenn, pouring more Jack, “is this power thing.  I get that you two think you are doing passive, disinterested scientific research.  But when she plays this little _You Can’t Cum Until I Let You_ game, you’re giving her control of your pleasure receptors.  Philologically speaking, **_you’re letting your brain get addicted to her._** ”

Inside, I cursed.  Glenn was a bit of a sexist guy, definitely someone who would say “ _Bros Before Hos,_ ” with a straight face.  And I could tell that he was appalled that I was allowing Anita to become the sexually dominant one in our relationship.

But he was right.  We both knew the underlying psychology.

“Fuck me,” I groaned.  I gulped the next shot.

Glenn and I were silent, contemplating the rug.

“What the fuck do I do?” I said simply.

“Ahhhhhh, shit, I was afraid you’d ask me that,” Glenn scowled.  He swigged from his glass.  “Two options that I see…  First, Cold Turkey.  Never see her again.  Walk away.”

I glowered.  That would mean walking away from the book, the project, our work.  To say nothing of cutting off the best sex I’ve ever had.  Ever.

“Second?” I asked.

“Second…” said Glenn.  “Turn the tables.  **_You_** be the dominant one.  Make her the **_taker_**.  Make her love you.”

I rubbed my forehead.  Of course Glenn had a stupid macho, “women should be in the kitchen” solution.  There was no way Anita was about to give up control.

*****


	3. Turnaround

I did my best to appear as detached and disinterested when I arrived at Anita’s apartment the next day.  If she had any lingering resentments from yesterday’s fiasco, she hid them well.

“Can we get right to it, _Papi?_ ” she said when I closed her front door.  “Tonight, I have a study group.”

“Sure,” I shrugged.

We took off our clothes, got me hard, got her wet, and then climbed into reverse cowgirl again.  Soon Anita was humping away, growling, “Not yet…!  _Aún no_ , ohhhh _hombre_ , yeah…!” and so on.

I let my fingers rest on Anita’s extremely toned butt, enjoying their firmness and her smooth skin.  _Jesus Christ,_ I thought forlornly.  **Am** _I in love with this woman?_

Immediately, I came.

“Fuck!” I swore as I felt my cock activate.

“ _Qué pasó?_ ” said Anita, twisting around.  “Again?”

“Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled.  This time, I genuinely was sorry.

My partner looked bummed.  “It is fine,” she said dismissively, climbing off me.  “It happens.”

*****

But I prematurely shot off the next three times as well.  We were five sessions in a row with no useable data.

“Okay, this is a _revolú_ ,” Anita said somewhat angrily on the fifth time.  “What the fuck?  Is it something I am doing?”

“No, its not you,” I said dejectedly.

“Well, we must think of solution,” grumbled Anita.  “ _Pronto._ ”

*****

Anita and I agreed to take a week off from our sessions, to recharge our batteries and put our research aside for a little while.

I knew it wouldn’t do any good, however.  I wouldn’t be any less in love with her after seven days.

*****

I didn’t have to wait a week.  To my surprise, Anita called my cell after four days.  “ _I have got a solution,_ Papi _,_ ” she told me brightly.  “ _Can you meet me at my place tonight?  At seven?_ ”

I wanted to think of an excuse, but none came.

*****

I was surprised when I stepped into Anita’s studio.  Anita was cross-legged on the mattress, chatting with Felicia, who was sitting in the desk chair.  You remember Felicia, our fellow PsychSex grad student?  Jeez, I hadn’t seen Fel since that party at Brad and Laurie’s.  You know… the one where Anita gave me that hand job in front of all my peers…

I glanced between the two women.  Felicia shifted uncomfortably in her seat.  I knew immediately: Anita had told her about our little research project.

Anita got to the point.  “Listen,” she told me, “Fel here is the best hypnotist in the Psych department.  She studied under Gratori at NYU.  I’ve seen her work, she’s _dura_.  I’ve explained our little problem to her, and I want her to hypnotize you.”

“Hypnotize me?” I balked.

“ _Sí,_ ” replied Anita, as if we were discussing what to eat for breakfast.  “Listen, it is beautiful solution, no?  She will work with you, put you under nice and deep, and then give you a suggestion **_not_** to climax until I give the safe word.  You won’t have to worry about a thing.  _Buena!_ ”

Felicia and I eyed one another.  She offered me a weak smile.

“Anita…” she said, “I don’t think hypnosis can do what you want.”

Anita suppressed an annoyed sigh.  “No?” she retorted.  “Why not?”

“Look, its **_always_** a bad idea to mix sex and hypnosis,” Felicia tried to explain.  “Hypnosis is a tool to prod the subconscious.  Sex has deep roots within emotion.  When the two are combined… well, it could be like wrapping dynamite with nitroglycerin.  Lord knows how it will come out.”

“We went through this,” Anita huffed.  “If you give Tomas here **_extremely_** specific hypnotic suggestion, it is only going to help us with our project, _sí?_   Nothing more.  _Nada mas._   Then, when we’re done, either you program his suggestions to expire, or we dehypnotize him.”

Felicia opened her mouth to object.

“Look, _amiga,_ I **_completely_** get your concerns,” Anita said dismissively.  “I’ll keep a sharp eye on _Papi_ here.  And let you know if anything goes… how you say… amiss.”

“Besides,” she added firmly, “you owe me a favor, _recuerda?_   Who set you up with Xavier?”

Felicia pressed her lips together.  I could tell she was annoyed with Anita for putting her in this position.  Hell, I was annoyed Anita for putting **_me_** in this position.

“You cool with this?” Felicia asked me.

I wasn’t, actually…  But I didn’t have a better idea.

I sighed.  “If this gets us through the research,” I grudgingly allowed, “I guess I’m all for it.”

*****

Felicia had me sit in the desk chair, hands folded on one another, feet flat on the floor.  She told me to stare at the ceiling, pick out one spot, and just concentrate on it.  I glumly did as she told me.

While Anita sat on the mattress and watched quietly, Felicia told me my eyes were getting tired, my body was getting relaxed, I was letting go and going to sleep.  I listened gamely, staring at that damned spot on the ceiling, waiting for something to happen.

Felicia went on and on, pausing every now and then to gulp a little water.  Finally she said, “Okay, just close your eyes,” and I did so.  More repetitive instructions, mostly about how tired I was feeling.

At one point, Felicia lifted my arm, shook it, and dropped it back into my lap.  I wondered why she did that; it didn’t feel any different from when I was awake.

After what must have been twenty minutes, Felicity told me, “Fine.  I’m going to count down from ten to one, Tomas.  Let yourself relax on each number.  On one, you’ll be asleep.  Ready?”

She counted downward, adding in hypnosis patter between each number.  I listened intently.

Finally, she hit “One!” with a loud snap of her fingers.

I waited.  I literally didn’t feel any different.  At all.

“He is hypnotized?” asked Anita, surprised.

Felicia sighed.  “No,” she replied.  “He’s not.  At all.  Tomas, open your eyes.”

I blinked open, deeply surprised.

“ _Que pasó?_ ” Anita demanded.  She looked between me and Felicia with suspicion.

The hypnotist bit her lip; I could see the wheels turning in her head.  “I’ll tell you **_exactly_** what’s wrong,” she told us.  “You guys are having the wrong person hypnotized.”

“Yo?” Anita said.  I must have looked surprised too.

“Look, not everyone is a good subject,” Felicia said simply.  “Tomas here, he’s good with numbers, rationalization, right-brain abstractions.  That makes it hard for him to allow imagination to accept suggestion.”  With a slightly pitying look, she told me, “Sorry, dear.”

It was news to me that I was a lousy hypnotic subject.  Needless to say, I was secretly pleased to hear it.

“On the other hand,” Felicia went on, “you, Anita, are creative, free-spirited, highly focused, and in tuned with your body thanks to all those Pilates.  You’re also highly intelligent.  You’re ideal for hypnosis.  We should be hypnotizing **_you._** ”

Anita was lost for words.  “But…” she objected, “that does not help our project.”

“You sure?” Felicia pushed back.  “Have you thought about it?”

“I cannot be hypnotized, okay?” insisted Anita.  “I just can’t.”

“Alright, alright,” Felicia nodded, as if the matter was settled.  “I get it.  Hey, c’ere for a second, will you?”

Anita, looking suspicious, rose off the mattress, and approached our fellow graduate student.  To my surprise, Felicia extended her hand, as if they were meeting for the first time.

Before Anita could react, Felicia leapt to her own feet, grabbed Anita by the wrist, and pulled, **_hard_**.  She shouted something, which sounded like, “ ** _SLEEP!_** ” and snapped her fingers loudly at the same time.

And Anita’s eyes went wide for only a second.  Then her body collapsed and she fell against Felicia, as if instantly put to sleep.

I couldn’t follow Felicia’s movements, but somehow she caught Anita’s body, flipped her around, and gently lowered her to lie on her back, right there on the floor.  All the while, Felicia murmured commands into Anita’s ear, commands like, “…deeper and deeper, allowing yourself to relax sooo very deeply, every word I say, every breath you take, sending you deeper and deeper into **_complete_** relaxation, finding yourself letting go, letting go, Anita…!”

I was about to exclaim something when Felicia shot me a warning glance and put a “ _Shhhh!_ ” finger over her lips.  “And now, Anita, I’m going to count down from ten to one,” she said, never breaking her patter.  “Which each number, you will go a hundred times deeper into relaxation.  When I reach number one, you will be deeply, deeply asleep, focused only on my voice and my voice alone.  Ready?  Ten…”

Felicia then knelt down next to her subject, speaking continuously, and occasionally lifting and shaking Anita’s lifeless arms.  Our Puerto Rican classmate was completely unresponsive, her eyes gently shut, her face a blank, her lips slightly open.

I’d seen someone get hypnotized exactly once before.  In our “Intro to Advanced Psych” class, Professor Bleecker had hypnotized Ryan Jennings and Carlos Ramirez.  Anita looked as they did: completely asleep, her body as limp as a rag doll.

“…and one!” Felicia finished.  “From now on, Anita, you will find that your subconscious will follow and obey all of the suggestions I give you while you are in this deeply hypnotized state.  Now, relax deeply, completely, totally while I talk to Tomas for a little.”

Anita remained motionless.

Standing up, Felicia shot me a dark glance.  “You two,” she said softly, “are **_such fucking idiots_**.”

*****

There wasn’t much point in trying to explain the situation to Felicia.  She’d heard Anita’s side of the story, and she knew me well enough to know why I volunteered to be Anita’s sex partner.

“ ** _Honestly_** , dude?” Felicia bemoaned.  “At the start of this, you didn’t see any emotional issues in having constant sex with Anita?  The girl you’ve lusted after since Day One?”

“Uh, yeah,” was all I could say for myself.

“ ** _And_** you guys are doing Power Imbalance experiments?”

I looked at my shoes.

Fel glared at me.  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty certain that your little experiment is fucking with Anita about as much as its fucking with you.  But that’s not going to help you in the short term.”

I felt ashamed.  “What the fuck do I do?” I groaned.  “Well, quit the project, obviously.”

“No, no, no,” Fel shook her head.  “Don’t do **_that_**.  That’ll make it worse, emotionally.  And Anita will hate you, and then you’re really screwed.  You’ll never recover.”

She was right.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Fel let out a long sigh.  “I’m gonna do you the biggest favor in your whole life,” she told me, using a sharp stare.

Then, before I could say anything, Fel moved to kneel next to the unconscious Anita.  She placed a hand on Anita’s shoulder.

“And now, Anita,” Fel said, using her honeylike hypno-voice, “I will count from one to five.  On the count of five, you will awaken, coming completely out of hypnosis, feeling like a million dollars.  However, what you’re about to discover is that whenever you and Tomas are alone and doing your… experiments… and whenever Tomas tells you, ‘ ** _DEEP ASLEEP_** ,’ that will be your signal to drop back into deep hypnosis.  You will instantly return to trance and then you will find that every suggestion Tomas gives you will be **_exactly_** as powerful as if I were giving them to you.  Tomas will be able to hypnotize you whenever he wants.”

With an arched eyebrow, Fel looked up at me.  “You know the Presidential Oath of Office?” she asked me.

“Uh, sure,” I replied, not really following her.

“You know,” Fel prodded, “… ** _’With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility’_**?  Every president has to swear that.”

“Actually, that’s Spider-Man,” I said.

“Shut up,” Fel snapped.  “Point is, you have to **_swear to me_** that when you put Anita under, you only Do Good.  You get me?  Because I will be rehypnotizing Anita in two weeks to check up on you guys.  And if I find that you’ve-“

I put up my hands.  “I get it, I get it.  But why…”

Fel’s expression softened.  “You can’t let her lord all the power, Tomas,” she said, worried.  “You need something to equalize things.  And maybe you won’t have to hypnotize her at all.  Maybe just knowing that you could, if you wanted to, will be enough.  Just promise me you’ll use this power wisely, okay?”

I nodded solemnly.  “I will.”

Fel studied my face.  She and I had known one another for a long time.  We’d gone through undergrad together, sweating through many tough exams.  I was the first person she called in tears when her mom died.  She wasn’t giving me Anita’s hypnosis trigger lightly.

My hypnotist friend returned her hand to Anita’s shoulder.  “And now, Anita,” she said sweetly, “you will awaken on the count of five.  The instant you open your eyes, you will forget you’ve been hypnotized.  In fact, you will be completely convinced that you watched Tomas get hypnotized, and now he’s ready to continue your experiments.  You will feel absolutely wonderful about yourself in every way.”

“Ready?” Fel asked.  “One, two, three, four…  **_Five!_** ”  She snapped her fingers, twice.

Anita’s eyes fluttered open.

“Here,” Fel said, quickly helping her to her feet.

Anita stood, momentarily disoriented.  Then she saw me.  A smile broke across her gorgeous face.

“See, Tomas?” Anita asked, almost teasing.  “That was not so bad, eh?  _Bastante bueno!_   I knew Fel could hypnotize you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.  “Lucky thing.”

“Well,” Felicia exclaimed, pretending to notice the time, “I’m overdue to meet my boyfriend.  Let me get out of your hair, eh?”

Anita began pulling out the clipboards and sex supplies, prepping another session with me.

As Fel swept past me toward the door, she murmured, “Just remember the Spider-Man Oath, okay?”  And then she was gone.

*****


	4. Anew Again

In fifteen minutes, Anita and I were naked once more, sitting on her mattress.  Actually humming to herself, my partner was making little adjustments with the placement of our research materials.

“I knew hypnosis would work on you, _Papi_ ,” she said conversationally.  “Only intelligent people can be hypnotized.  And you’re one of the brightest people I know.  _Mamey!_ ”

Anita paused, looking at me curiously.  “…So, what did it feel like?” she asked, curious.

“Hypnosis?” I said.  “Uh, well, relaxing.  Really relaxing.”  That’s what Ryan and Carlos said after getting hypno’ed by Professor Bleecker.

“I’ll bet,” half-laughed Anita.  “ _Hombre_ , I am feeling pretty relaxed myself.  This will be a good session.  A _Bembé!_ ”

She studied the clipboard.  “Okay, right,” she recalled.  “We were doing reverse cowgirl, you press on my buttocks for three minutes, then stroke my _cabrón_ with your thumb.  You cannot cum until I give you permission.  Got it?”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“ _Buena_ ,” my partner said.  “So lie down, okay?  I will start the clock.”

I hesitated.  “Can we do one thing first?” I asked.

Anita paused, but smiled.  “Sure,” she allowed.  “ _Que?_ ”

Moving quickly, I slipped a hand around her shoulders and passed a hand over her face.  “ ** _DEEP ASLEEP_** , Anita!” I said.

The effect was immediate.  Anita’s beautiful eyes sagged shut and her expression vanished.  She went limp; I cradled her against my body.

She was hypnotized!  In my sway!  Ready to receive my suggestions!

I licked my lips.  I had no formal hypnosis training, but I knew tons about subconscious language.  Plus, I had picked up a lot from hanging out with Fel and her friends.

So what would I command Anita to do?

I’ll admit… for an instant, I listened to that little devil on my shoulder, cackling, “ _Make her your slave!  Make her suck your cock and call you ‘Master!’  Turn the bitch into your obedient toy, and make her_ **BEG** _for permission to cum!_ ”

I was tempted.  What guy wouldn’t be?

But… I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t.  Hypnosis isn’t mind control, after all.  Anita’s subconscious would probably reject any slave-making commands.  Besides, would fucking a brainwashed, mindless Anita be any hotter than fucking the real thing?

I doubted it.

So instead, I found myself saying, “And now, Anita, when I awaken you, you will discover that you are open to enjoying our session tonight.  The science is important, but enjoying yourself is important, too.  Allow yourself to enjoy the sex.”

I repeated those instructions a few times, then brought her out by counting to five, just like how Fel had done.

Anita came back to life immediately.  “ _Buena_ , you are ready?” she asked me.  She had no memory of going under.

*****

I lay on my back, watching my partner rise up to position herself.  For a moment, I could clearly see a glimpse of her anus and pussy at the same time.  That alone helped me get erect.

Anita noticed.  “You enjoying the view, _broki?_ ” she smirked.

I shrugged, blushing a little.  “You have a hot body,” I said sheepishly.  “I still get off on seeing it.”

Now Anita laughed a little.  “ _Awee_ , you are sweet,” she chuckled.  “So… **_this_** does it for you?”

And she rose up on her knees, allowing me a longer glance at her privates.

“ _Buena_ , _buena_ , down to work,” she smiled, when I’d finished gawking.  “I am starting the clock.  Remember, you have to begin by stimulating my ass.  Three minutes, okay?”

“Gotcha,” I replied, reaching up to grasp her.

Anita checked my condom, stroked herself for a second or two, then slowly lowered herself on to my rock-hard member.  I heard her sigh as her vagina swallowed me up.

She rocked up and down, fucking me as usual.

I closed my eyes, feeling those bouncy buttocks under my fingers.  When she’s stimulated just right, Anita has really potent erogenous zones right on her butt cheeks.  By this point, I’d learned precisely how to stroke her.  I applied those skills now.

There.  Anita was sighing and huffing slightly now; that meant she was getting really, really wet.  She began to rise and fall quicker.

I was enjoying the stimulation myself.  Perhaps it was my imagination, but my cock felt even happier than usual.  I think Anita was leaning on me at a slightly different angle…?  I wasn’t sure.  Something was different, **_better_** … but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  Who fucking cared?  This felt wonderful.

I opened my eyes a crack to gaze up at my lover.  She was facing away, of course, so I could only see her butt, her naked back, and those sexy black curls bouncing away off her shoulders.  Anita’s tiny feet were facing me, framing my torso in her sexiness.  I let my hands rub her buttocks with a little more force.

“Ohhhh…” Anita mumbled.  “Oh, yeah, baby…  _Brutal!_   Just like that… Don’t stop, touch me just like that…  _Dios mío_ …!”

She had never talked to me like this during sex before.  Oh, she’d yelled filthy, dirty talk at me to establish dominance, sure.  But never anything encouraging like this.

“Ohhhhh baby,” she said, her voice trembling, “please, don’t stop touching me like that.  **_Just_** like that.  Ugh ugh **_unnnnnnngh…!_** ”

I obeyed, although I wasn’t certain what I was doing differently.  Perhaps I was applying a little more pressure on her butt?  Maybe I was rubbing a bigger area?  I didn’t know.  I just kept rubbing.

“ ** _Ay bendito!_** ” sighed Anita, then actually giggled!  “Yes, yes, yes, yes!  _Dios mío_ , yes!  Yeeeeeeee…”

Her voice rose in pitch, becoming a high, almost strangled cry.

I was having a hard time concentrating myself.  Anita was clearly getting crazy-aroused, and as her body lit up, I was getting crazy myself.  My cock was warning me: it was about to blow at any moment.

“Oh, so-so-so-sooo good,” purred Anita, humping me much faster.

Then I realized:  What was the time?  Were three minutes up yet?  Was I supposed to be stimulating her butthole now?  I had no idea.

I moved to look at the clock, only to realized that I must have kicked it earlier.  I could see it, face down on the floor.

At that minute, Anita jumped off my cock.  “Hurry!” she moaned, her voice urgent.  “Fuck me doggie!  Fuck me doggie style, _Gato!_ ”  She was scrambling onto all fours, still pointing her ass at me.

I couldn’t think.  In a flash, I was standing on my knees behind her, angling to enter her gleaming pussy.  Her ass cheeks seemed to be reaching for me.

I grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her onto my cock.  Anita squealed with delight, and I felt her weight slam back against my hips!  She was pushing back into me!

 ** _I fucked her._**   Oh God, I fucked Anita **_so fucking hard_** in that moment.  I felt like a turbopowered drill boring through the wet earth.  I swear, I was like Thor and Superman combined.  I rammed Anita from behind as if I was trying to pummel her into the mattress.

“Harder, baby, harder, oh fuck, **_so much harder!_** ” Anita cried, slamming into me at top speed with all her might.  She dropped to her elbows, which allowed her to paw the mattress cover like the tigress she was.  “ ** _AY BENDITO!!!_** _Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios **Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios Oh Dios OhhhhHHHHHH…!!!”**_

I lost all control.  My penis fired like primary artillery.  I think I grunted and yelled at the same time.  God knows **_what_** I yelled out in that moment – nothing I could print in a family publication, I’m sure.  The orgasm felt so good, so amazing, so…  I can’t describe it.  Its like my penis was created solely for that one moment, and all other ejaculating before that was just practice.

In my hands, I could feel Anita’s hips shaking.  “ _Dios mío!_   Fuck me harder, **_harder_** , baby, **_HARDER!_** ” she was crying.

I did all I could to satisfy her.  Even though I knew I was spent and was losing strength, I fucked on.  I prayed my dick could stay stiff just for a few more seconds, just long enough to make Anita climax…!

But I didn’t have the stamina.  As I pulled back for the thousandth time, my exhausted cock flopped to one side and wouldn’t get back up again.  I was done.

And it wasn’t just my member who was through.  My arms and legs and torso were exhausted.  I released Anita’s hips, and immediately toppled to the mattress.  It was like all my strength had been spent.  I couldn’t have walked in that moment if I’d wanted to.

I felt Anita’s body crumple to the mattress, away from me.  We lay there, gasping.

My head reeled.  **_How was such sex possible?_** I felt like that astronaut in 2001 who goes into the colorful space-warp and ends up on the other side of the universe.  I had never been so blown away before.

Anita flopped over, then crawled to my side.  She propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at me.  Her expression was dazed.

“Fuck, wow,” she croaked.

“I forgot to stimulate your anus,” I whispered.  “Sorry.”

“And I’m guessing that you came before I gave permission,” said Anita.

“…yeah,” I admitted.  “Uh…”

“I never gave permission,” she said softly.  “I forgot the experiment.”

I was startled.

Anita grinned, pushing black curly hair out of her eyes.  “I came for a **_looooong_** time,” she confessed.  “You were so hot.”

“You too,” I told her.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

To my astonishment, she snuggled up against me, laying her head on my shoulder.  I nearly swooned as the scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils.

“You must figure,” Anita said conversationally, “that while we are doing this project, the sex is going be… well, sometimes fun, right?  It cannot be a clinical study the whole time, can it?  _No, no puede._ ”  She sighed.  “We must have to have permission to fuck around, once and a while.”

“I guess,” I replied.

Anita sat up, then kissed me on the lips, a closed-mouth kiss.  “We will resume the experiments tomorrow, _Papi,_ ” she told me.  “Today was just a fun thing.”

*****

I was aching to rehypnotize Anita and convince her that she loved me.   All I wanted was for her to lie naked in my arms while we stared up at her dingy ceiling.  I wanted her to tell me about her life in Puerto Rico.  I wanted to tell her about my childhood in the Philippines.  I wanted the two of us to whisper secrets and promises to one another across the pillow, all the while aware of our nude bodies wrapped around one another.  I wanted her to smile at me with love in her eyes.

I could have done that.  It was in my power to put Anita back into a trance and command her to do and feel all of those things.

But I’m no real hypnotist.  Oh, I could have probably put her under and convinced her that I was her dream lover.  For a few hours.  But eventually, my suggestions would wear off.  Anita would shake off her trance, and then I’d be screwed.  I just couldn’t do that.

So I swallowed my crazy fantasies and pulled on my clothes.  Anita dressed with me, already talking about our next session.  “ _Mañana_ at seven PM, that will work for you?” she asked.

We promised ourselves that starting tomorrow, we’d be back to the usual work.

Only when I came back the next day, we lost control **_again_** and just fucked each other with abandon for the sheer joy of it.

*****

A week went by without a single usable research session.  Every time Anita and would begin our experiment, we’d forget ourselves.  Sometimes, while I was penetrating her, she’d lose concentration.  She’d start with the _I-want-you-so-badly-so-pump-me-harder_ sex talk, and I would lose it.  And we’d fuck for the delight of it.  Other times, I would just get so fucking horny, I just **_had_** to have her in one of my favorite positions.  I didn’t fucking care about the research when I got that aroused.  Once one of us got too turned on, the other was soon mad with passion, and then there was just no way to get the clinical sex back on track.

And I swear, I hypnotized Anita just the one time!  Just once!  But from that point on out, it was like a switch had been flipped in her brain, and she secretly wanted to hump me for fun.  Not to populate the database.

We knew we were in trouble on the Thursday after Fel hypnotized Anita.  On that day, all my classes were canceled, and Anita decided to blow off her study group.  I was in her apartment by 10 am, and we swore we’d get at least one good data session in before the sun set.

We fucked each other seven times that day.  We even surprised the pizza delivery guy by answering the door in a shameful state of undress.  But despite the nineteen orgasms we had between us, not once did we produce a single scrap of useable research.

*****

A few days later… I dunno how many…  Anita and I were laying in one another’s arms, naked, recovering from yet another unsuccessful research session.  She always left me winded, with my brain feeling like it had been blasted from a cannon.  I was intoxicated by the gentle fragrance of her skin.  She absently ran her fingertips back and forth across my chest.

“ _Papi_ ,” said Anita softly.  “I must to ask you a question.”

“Sure,” I said.

She sat up to study me.  “Did you hypnotize me?” she asked.

I froze.  How did she know?

In that moment, I admit:  I was tempted to lie.  To tell her _No!  Of course not!  I’m no hypnotist!_   Then to put her back into a trance and erase her memory.

But I couldn’t lie.  Not to Anita.  Not about this.

“Yeah,” I admitted.  “I did, just once.  I told you-“

“ _Sí,_ I remember it,” Anita cut me off.  “Well, I remember it **_now_**.  I did not for a while.”

I grimaced inside, bracing for angry words.

To my amazement, Anita snuggled back against me.  “Felicia, she told me about it, then she _hipnotizado_ me again,” she explained.  “To make me remember.”

“So… why did you ask?” I had to know.

Anita shrugged.  “I want to make sure you are honest with me.   _Honestidad_ is important in a relationship, no?”

I grimaced.  “Look,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself.  “Yes, I hypnotized you.  I…  I wanted to make-“

“Hey,” Anita cut me off.  But she was smiling.  “I know,” she murmured.  “While I was sleeping, you tell me that I would enjoy the sex.  And **_fuck me_** , I did.”

“I didn’t mean to manipulate you,” I said quickly.

“Felicia was right,” Anita said, back to rubbing my chest.  “Hypnotizing me was… how to say… a nudge to my _subconsciente_ , my subconscious.  It made me realize I liked the physical pleasure of sex, but was repressing the emotions it gives.”

Was I being forgiven?  I’d always assumed that if Anita found out about the hypnotism, she’d be furious.  She’d accuse me of rape or something.

Anita pursed her lips, thinking.  I waited while she chose her words.

“I think after the first time you fucked me with hypnosis… there was no going back after that,” she confessed.  “You didn’t make me to think you had a three foot cock or that you were _muy caliente_ or that I was your slave girl or something kinky like that.  You just give my mind permission to enjoy the fucking.”

She added softly:  “And - _al garete!_ – my mind **_so_** did.”

“…huh,” I answered.

Anita made a happy little sound and pressed against me even closer.  Both of us listened to the cars pass by down on the street below.

“So…” I said.  “How do we get the research back on track?”

Anita laughed quietly.  “We don’t, _tonto_.  We can’t.  No way we can take disciplined measurements now.  Not now that your cock drives me so fucking _bellaca_.”

“Besides,” she said, twisting her body up to mouth kiss me, “I have idea for another experiment.”

“Oh man,” I said.

“Relax, you will like this one,” she grinned, tickling my neck.

I playfully swatted her away.  “Sure,” I said.  “What’re we doing?”

Anita looked bashful for a moment.  “I want you to hypnotize me again,” she mumbled.  “Like before.  And then I **_do_** want to fuck you totally thinking that you have a three-feet cock.”

My jaw must have dropped.  “For real?”

Anita shrugged, still blushing.  “Always I have fantasized about getting doggie from a supersized guy,” she confessed.  “But here is the thing:  A real three-foot cock would hurt like fuck, right?  So I just want to **_think_** you have a yardlong dick.”  Her voice turned small.  “You can do that, right?”

I hesitated only a moment.  “ ** _DEEP ASLEEP_** ,” I said to my girlfriend, passing a hand before her face.

*****


	5. Epilogue

Thankfully, no-one beyond Felicia and Glenn learned about Anita’s and my research project.  I do think, however, that our classmates realized Anita and I were in love long before we did.  I’ve never been teased so much by my peers, nor have I cared so little.

Anita is a wonderful girlfriend.   I love her so damn much.  I love how she snorts just a little when she’s enjoying a really deep belly-laugh.  I love that she yells at the characters on the screen whenever we’re watching a movie.  I love how she’s a fitness freak, yet her dieting Kryptonite is cheesecake, any cheesecake.  I love that she usually doesn’t bother to filter thoughts when they pass from her brain to her mouth.  I even love how she puts off doing the laundry until there is literally nothing clean left in her closet.

I’m rubbing off on her, too.  Last month, I coaxed her to her first rugby game.  Although she spent most of the time screaming, convinced the players were going to kill one another, she hung in there for the entire match.  I’m also introducing her to the little bit of Filipino cuisine that I can cook.  And under my watchful eye, she’d learning to ride a bike.  She’d pretty bad at it, but gets right back up after every tumble.  She’s more open-minded about trying new things than I am.

Speaking of open-minded…  Yes, Anita and I are still doing hypnosis in the bedroom.  She is an awesome subject, able to take any hypnotic suggestion and really run with it.  After I saw how much fun she was having, I got jealous and wanted her to hypnotize me.  We’ve done a few sessions on me, but I really struggle to go under.

But we’ll get there.  Anita is taking Advanced Hypnotherapy Techniques next semester.

*****

“I have an idea for a new project,” Anita said gaily, one day in January.  “Well, two projects, actually.”

It had only been a few days after we’d moved in together.  I was dragging the groceries in from the cold, and it was freezing outside.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about something else that would occupy my time.

“These are… research projects?” I asked, wary.

“Ah:  one yes, the other definitely no,” replied Anita.  She came over to help me put away the food.  I could tell she enjoyed making me wonder.

I sighed, but was still amused by this little game.  “Okay, let me guess,” I drawled.  “The Yes one is another sex book?”

“ _Oh-de-lay!_ ” nodded Anita, her brown eyes lighting up.  “ _Sí_ , I have the perfect topic for us.”

“What?”

“We will call it:  Hypnotizing Your Lover in the Bedroom,” she said grandly.  “I can see the experimental design now:  First, we will-“

“Okay, okay,” I laughed.  “I’m on board.  What’s the second project?”

Anita hesitated, then faced me.  “I’m pregnant, _Papi_ ,” she said softly.

I dropped the celery.  My heart leaped.  I knew then:  I was about to spend the rest of my life with this amazing woman.

Half in shock and half in joy, I drew her in to kiss her.

*****


End file.
